


A Heart Crossing Borders

by samariumwriting



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cultural Differences, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27371104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting
Summary: In the wake of the war, Conrad serves Valentia's joint rulers as an advisor. Above everyone in the Valentian court, he has one key advantage: a life spent on both sides of a border that still means far more than anyone wants it to.
Relationships: Alm & Conrad (Fire Emblem), Anthiese | Celica & Conrad
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Fire Emblem Writer's Zine





	A Heart Crossing Borders

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for the FE Writer's Zine! I love Conrad a whole bunch so it was great to get to write a piece surrounding him. This is also my 100th (!!!!) posted Fire Emblem fic so that's exciting!

The hall was packed full to the brim with all the people who wanted to see the coronation, and Conrad could hear even more crowds forming beyond the castle walls. All Valentia wanted to see this: the birth of a new age.

Decorum would dictate that no one cheered during the ceremony, but as the crowns were lowered simultaneously onto Alm and Celica’s heads, and they sat on their thrones hand in hand for the first time as joint rulers, the whole room erupted in a roar. Conrad joined them.

How could he not? That was his sister there, finally getting the recognition she deserved for all she was willing to do for the people of Valentia. And beside her was the best man he could think of to aid her, to take on her problems as his own and lead Valentia to a brighter future.

He smiled. Once upon a time, many had asked him if he wanted to be king. Some would even suggest that he had good reason to covet what Celica and Alm had, but he’d never felt that way.

No. Looking upon them, the only thing he could feel was immense pride for the both of them. They would do all they could for Valentia, and Conrad was certain that they’d succeed.

* * *

Unfortunately, not everyone wanted to work towards that happy future in quite the same way.

“I just don’t think I can handle all of it,” Celica groaned, her head in her hands barely more than a month later. “The whole meeting was an utter disaster. There was nothing to be done about it.”

“What’s the problem, specifically?” he asked. He knew which nobles were visiting the capital, but hadn’t been granted the opportunity to sit in on the meeting. He had full faith that his sister could handle it, but… he didn’t want her to do so on her own if he could help it.

“It was a meeting regarding the food shortages in the former territories of Rigel,” she said with a sigh. Of course it was; the winter months were coming up, and with the war that had torn through the country even the meagre harvests they managed before would fall short of feeding every mouth.

“Let me guess,” he said, scrunching up his face in an attempt to mimic one of the ancient Zofian nobles (so old that Conrad was  _ sure  _ he hadn’t aged a day in a decade). “‘It is frankly  _ impossible _ to spare any of Zofia’s crops in aid of Rigel. If they wished to eat, perhaps they should have worked harder in the fields, just as the people of Zofia did.’ A bit like that, right?”

In spite of the serious topic, Celica giggled. “Oh, I shouldn’t laugh,” she said. “Sorry. You just have him down so well - I could almost see the twitching of his moustache!”

“He’s more caricature than man,” Conrad said. “And in reply… well, I can’t imagine the Rigelians responded all that diplomatically to his implications.”

Celica shook her head. “They were outraged,” she said. “They wanted a formal apology, for one, and also my guarantee that all the people of Rigel would be fed. I’d like to make that promise, I really would, but I don’t  _ own _ that land. I can’t order anyone to complete a harvest if they know they’ll never see the food.”

Conrad nodded. He couldn’t think of a solution on the spot, not without the people concerned in front of him to discuss the proposals through, but maybe… “May I come to the next meeting?” he asked. “I’d like to see if I can negotiate the differences between them somewhat.”

“If you don’t mind,” Celica replied. “I’ve tried everything to get them to listen, but they just… hate each other. I don’t think they’re my biggest fan either.”

“That would be Alm,” Conrad agreed, shooting her a smile. It worked; Celica returned it, and when she replied there was a little more lightness to her tone.

“Quite,” she said. “Either way, thank you, Conrad. We’re meeting again tomorrow at first light.  _ Anything  _ you can do to help would make a world of difference, so thank you.”

“My pleasure, sister.”

And it was his pleasure. He sat there for hours, in the end, carefully sorting through each grievance, each complaint. The fact of the matter was that, above all, the Rigelians needed food, and Zofia had it. It couldn’t just be given, not if the farmers or their lords were to be satisfied, but it could be traded.

Zofia wasn’t used to Rigel having much to offer them, but now perhaps they did. In a world without Duma and Mila, the blessings of the land had faded somewhat. Rigelians had spent years cultivating methods to grow crops, and they had plenty to share. Plenty to teach.

By the end of the week, there was an easy smile back on Celica’s face, and an exchange was agreed: Rigelians would come from agricultural villages to teach how they tilled a far less fertile soil, and when they returned, they would take a cartful of grain back with them.

It was an exchange that would save many, many lives. Privately, Conrad hoped it would encourage people to forge ties across a border that no longer truly existed, and maybe with time there would be no need for him to sit in a stuffy negotiation room to decide whether children could eat in the coming winter.

Either way, he was happy, and the world was a better place.

* * *

“May I ask you a favour, Conrad?” Alm’s voice made Conrad look up from the papers in front of him. He was happy to brush aside the issue of running water for the remote villages of Zofia for now, but it was strange that Alm had come to him. He usually preferred Mycen’s counsel.

“Of course,” he said. “What brings you to my den of paperwork, Alm?”

Alm looked around the room and laughed lightly. “I’m going to Ri- northern Valentia soon, on a tour of sorts. I’m touring a handful of settlements in the hope that they’ll be a little more receptive to the education reforms, but I don’t… really know much about what’s normal up there.”

“And you don’t want to offend anyone?” Conrad guessed. Alm nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be better off than you expect, but if you need a guide of sorts I’d be happy to accompany you.”

“Thank you,” Alm replied, and his smile was blinding. Conrad definitely saw why the people of Zofia had been so easily won over by his charms. “I hope you’re right that there won’t be much of a problem, but I’d rather get some help from someone who’s actually lived there, you know?”

It turned out that Conrad was, in fact, wrong: Alm really did know nothing about Rigel or its norms. On their second day in the country, Alm nearly crossed someone’s threshold without being invited.

“Alm, wait,” he said, holding out his hand. He looked up at the older woman standing just inside her house — she smiled at him knowingly. She’d clearly just tried to trip them up. “May we enter, ma’am?”

She smiled again, and nodded. “Of course,” she said, her tone unnervingly sweet. Conrad glanced back at Alm, who nodded in reply.

The visit itself was a success, and once they returned to their quarters for the night, Alm thanked him. “Is that a custom, to ask for permission to enter?” he asked. Conrad nodded. “I hadn’t noticed, I thought everyone was just very welcoming.”

“No,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s convention - and good manners - for someone to have permission to enter your house.”

“Well, thank you for the warning,” he said with a smile. “Somehow, I don’t think today would have gone quite so well without you.”

“It was nothing,” he emphasised, a sheepish smile forming on his face. “It’s what I’m here for.”

It wasn’t the only time, either; barely more than a week later, Alm and Conrad sat at a village leader’s house. As they explained the educational programme that they were attempting to introduce to Rigel, Alm spoke confidently and fluidly.

And then he went off-script, introducing more familiarity into his tone. That was when everything went horribly wrong.

It wasn't Alm's fault - he wasn't to know that the word used to mean 'illiterate' in the southern parts of Valentia meant something far, far ruder in the north. Conrad hadn't realised it until it slipped out, either, leaving the village leader's mouth wide open in something blending shock and rage. Conrad couldn't blame her; the word didn't sound  _ right  _ from Alm, who was nothing if not polite and kind pretty much all the time.

"My apologies," Conrad cut in quickly, before any more damage could be done. Alm cut himself short, looking at him questioningly. "In the south, that word simply refers to someone who cannot read."

"Ah, I see," the village leader said, letting a small laugh escape her. Alm joined in, though he sounded distinctly more nervous. "No harm done. Just… do not use that particular word up here, young king. It will make you more enemies than friends."

Alm attempted another laugh at that. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Thank you for understanding my blunder. It's impossible to account for everything - that's why I have Conrad here! He's something of an expert on the northern lands of Valentia; you'd think he wasn't from the south at all."

The conversation moved on after that, flowing more easily between all of them. But Alm's words stuck in Conrad's mind.  _ As if he wasn't from the south at all. _

Just like with the dialect difference, Alm wasn't to know the resonance of his words. But when they returned to the capital, successful in their aims of winning the populace over to the crown's plans, Conrad couldn't help but doubt if he should return at all. There were things that connected him to Rigel, far more than he'd ever been linked to Zofia. He spent many of his formative years in Rigel, with Rigelians, and far from any Zofian court.

Most of his ties were Zofian, yes. Celica, the last remaining member of his family, was Zofian. The friends he'd made while on the campaign to save Valentia were Zofian. There was no reason for him to live anywhere else, not really, but...

Everywhere he looked in the castle, he was reminded of another reason he did not belong. Each pillar in the Zofian style reminded him of the lessons he'd attended as a child, where his mother's home was singled out as having an inferior architectural order. The tapestries reminded him of how they used to dress up as knights when they were children, but everyone in the castle pushed him into the role of the evil Rigelian, simply by the virtue of his birth.

It hurt, in all honesty. He felt as if he didn't belong, and every moment made him feel like he was ten years old again, worrying that he was going to be sent away to a scary land he didn't know just because he broke a vase.

But when that happened, he went to Celica. And now they once more lived under the same roof, he could go to her again. "Hey, Celica, can we talk about something?" he asked one evening, when Celica stopped by to say goodnight (and, as always, told him not to work quite so hard).

Celica's forehead creased in concern. "Of course," she said. "What's the problem? If there  _ is _ a problem, of course."

"There is," he said, suppressing a sigh. He turned his desk chair around, trying not to wince at the scrape of the legs on the wood below, and gestured to one of his armchairs. Celica sat down, and his gaze fell to the table between them. He chuckled. "Maybe I should have prepared some tea, huh?"

Celica shook her head. "There's no need," she said. "Just tell me about it."

Sometimes he felt like he was the younger brother rather than the older one. She always knew what to say. "Do you remember when we were young?" he asked. "And people used to hate me, because my mother was from Rigel?"

"Of course," she replied, her frown deepening. "Do people still do that? If you can tell me who, I'm sure I can-"

"No," he said, trying to shoot her a reassuring smile. From the way she fixed him with a glare, he didn't think it worked. "It's more that I'm worried that they… had a point?" Damn, that wasn't going to help his case at all. He just sounded silly.

"Did something bring this on?" she asked.

He nodded. "I visited northern Valentia with Alm last Avistym," he said. Celica nodded; she knew the trip. "I know the way Rigel works. I know the culture, the people. I… I love it there. I have more happy memories there than here in the south, and it made me feel- maybe I should be there. Maybe I'd do a better job doing something there."

Celica shook her head, fixing him on the spot with a smile. "I think you're doing a wonderful job here, and your connections to Rigel are invaluable," she said firmly. She reached her hands across the table and took his ever so gently. "And don't you dare tell yourself you don't belong here just because of the ghosts of the past. You  _ do  _ belong here, just as much as anyone else. You're my brother, and I promise you, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Celica, I..." It felt like there was something in his throat, threatening to break free. He didn't really cry much, not since he was a child, but he just might now. It seemed like such a silly thing to cry about.

"Shh," she said. "I won't hear it. You're wanted here, Conrad, and I would do anything to make sure you can be as happy here as you can be in Rigel. Maybe you don't have many good memories of this place, but we can make them. Together."

"You're right," he said. His voice cracked, just a little, but he knew Celica wouldn't mock him for it; she never had. "Thank you, sister. It means a lot."

Maybe he couldn't take all of Celica's words to heart. Maybe it would take a little longer for him to be comfortable with the fact that, maybe, he could belong here  _ and  _ love Rigel. But maybe, just maybe, he'd get there some day. Until then, helping Alm and Celica on their way was plenty good enough for him.

* * *

_ Post-war, Conrad put down his lance and took up a quill, beginning a long career as a civil servant. He spent many a year aiding the King and Queen of Valentia in bridging the gaps between the former territories of Rigel and Zofia. Following Mycen's retirement, he became chancellor, shepherding Valentia's prosperity for years. _

_ While few beyond the courts ever knew of his dedication, his life was devoted to the improvement of the lives of all, so never again would someone be forced to marry unhappily to save others from starvation. Despite an endless chain of suitors, he remained single all his life, stating that his love for his sister and her family was more than enough to satisfy him. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! A comment or kudos would be super appreciated if you enjoyed this. I also have a twitter @samariumwriting where I talk a lot about fic (mostly Three Houses) and my life


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